All Lengths
by addict-writer
Summary: Justin comes back home in the middle of the night with what looks like a mere cold. Brian turns all protective, trying to do his best to make his partner feel better. Written for Fandom for Mental Health.


**Title:** All Lengths

 **Author penname:** addicted-to-romione-bedward

 **Beta reader:** Predec2

 **Fandom:** Queer as Folk U.S.

 **Pairing:** Brian/Justin

 **Summary:** Justin comes back home in the middle of the night with what looks like a mere cold. Brian turns all protective, trying to do his best to make his partner feel better. Written for Fandom for Mental Health.

 **Discliamer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **oOo**

Rattling at his door pulled Brian from his slumber. It was his first real sleep in weeks after working day and night on a new account. With the deal closed, he could relax and actually get some rest.

Or so he thought.

"No better time to get robbed than in the middle of the night," he grumbled as he made his way toward the door.

Hearing someone trying to unlock it, he grabbed a plastic bat that had been forgotten from Gus's last visit. He eyed his weapon of choice, realizing he couldn't scare anyone with a squeaky, rubber bat, and chucked it away in disgust.

Instead of shouting at the robber to leave, or at least calling the police, Brian pulled the door open, ready to kick the person's ass down the stairs.

"Get lost, you fuc…Justin?" He gasped. "Fuck! What's wrong?" Brian wrapped an arm around a pale-looking Justin's shoulder, hustling him inside.

"Stupid key. I couldn't see which one…Sorry if I woke you."

"Jesus Christ! You look terrible."

"That's why I'm here. I couldn't be alone…I've got this stupid bug, and it won't go away. Can't talk much. My throat is killing me."

"Come on." Brian took Justin to the bed. "Lie down." After taking his shoes off, Brian put two blankets over Justin, kissing his feverish head. "Get some sleep. You'll be fine."

"Stay." Justin reached a weak hand out.

"I'll be right there. Give me two minutes."

As Brian locked up again, he dialed Debbie's number. It was late at night, but he had no clue who else to call. If he called Mother Taylor, she'd be all over their asses in no time, and Brian knew Justin didn't need mothering. Besides, if she came over here, she'd get it, too, then give it to Molly and Tucker.

"Hello?" Debbie's sleepy voice answered after several rings.

"Deb. Sorry I woke you up. It's Justin…he's got this—"

"Sunshine? What happened to him?"

"I think he has the flu. Don't come here. I'll probably get it from him, too…so the less people involved, the better."

"So what do you want from me? I want to help, but if I'm not allowed in the loft, I can't do it. Should I drop food by the door?"

Brian chuckled. "Sounds good, but I was thinking…could you give me the recipe to your chicken soup?"

"Be still, my heart! Brian Kinney, cooking!"

"Stop mocking me, woman! So will you give it to me or not?"

"Of course, honey. Do you have something to write on?"

Going to his desk, Brian sat down. "Listening." He scribbled down every word Debbie said. It didn't sound very complicated.

"Do you have everything?"

"No, but I will. Thank you. I'll order everything I might need, then get some sleep."

"You should buy some medicine, too. Make sure Sunshine isn't allergic to it, and get something for his fever and sore throat. I remember he had a cold when he lived with me, but I'm not sure what I gave him."

"It's okay, Deb. You've been a real help. I'll let you sleep now. Try not to call us every five seconds, okay? We'll be fine. I hope."

"Sure, honey. Love you. Good night."

"Night."

Brian placed his grocery and pharmaceutical online order, smiling when he saw the delivery time was scheduled for nine in the morning. Perfect.

Then he returned to bed, wrapping his arms around his too warm partner. Justin snuggled into his side, sighing heavily.

"How are you feeling?" Brian combed his fingers through Justin's wet locks.

"Like someone is boiling me alive. I feel so shitty because I stole a couple Tylenol from my roommate when I couldn't bear it anymore."

"You told me you were extremely allergic to that! Why the fuck would you take it, then?"

"Well, I was desperate. I thought dying might be preferable to feeling boiled alive."

"You're such an idiot sometimes, Justin. And I quote: 'Tylenol is the worst.'" Brian narrowed his eyes at Justin.

"I had to finish a commission. Of course, I ended up texting the guy and apologizing, but telling him that his dog's portrait had to wait until I could stand up without the wall's assistance."

"Dog portrait? Is that why you left me for New York? To do dog portraits?" Brian scowled.

"It's a real cute dog, too."

"Maybe you're allergic to the dog."

"Don't make me laugh. Every part of my body hurts."

"Sleep."

 **oOo**

A jostle and a loud groan jerked Brian from his slumber. He cracked an eye open in time to see a flash of blond running to the bathroom.

 _Urgh. Justin is back…and sick._ He scrubbed at his face, trying to wake up.

When he heard retching sounds, Brian hurried after his boyfriend. Leaning against the bathroom's door frame, he had a flashback of a time not so long ago when Justin was staring at him helplessly as he barfed.

Justin glanced up, scrunching his nose, then kicked the door shut in Brian's face.

"Hey!" Brian protested loudly.

"I'm gross."

"In a few hours, I'll be there in your place."

Deciding to leave him alone for a while, Brian checked the time. Still twenty minutes until the groceries would be delivered. In the meantime, he made mint tea, remembering how it helped with his weak stomach.

Ten minutes later, Justin stumbled out of the bathroom looking pale and drained.

"Do I want to know how you got so sick?" Brian inquired, offering him a cup of tea.

Justin took it gratefully, blowing on it softly, before taking a careful sip. "It was a slow process. I stayed with the window open in my room so my paintings would dry."

"It's fucking winter, Sunshine."

"Then I ran to the store at the corner when we ran out of bread…I had only my sweatpants and a t-shirt on. Of course, I might have gotten it from Amy, too, since she banished her boyfriend too late…we'd been sneezing for two days when we realized he was the problem. Then there was this trick a week ago… Are you listening to me?"

Brian shook his head. "I'm seriously considering calling Mother Taylor and demanding to know how many times she dropped you on your head as a baby."

"Anyway, I woke up yesterday feeling clogged up and stuffy. I couldn't talk, I couldn't move, everything ached. After trying to push back the horrible feeling, and not having any luck, I knew I needed to come home. I mean, I don't even know why I came to you. I held back from calling you, knowing you had that new account and were busy…but in the cab, I gave him your address, not Mom's."

"Good. I'd rather have you here. Sick or not, I always want you here." Brian kissed his forehead fondly. "Now go back to bed."

"Can you grab another blanket? It's so chilly." Justin shivered as he went to the bedroom.

"Hold it." Brian grabbed his elbow, pulling him closer. He felt his forehead, pursing his lips. "You're burning up. I don't like this. I'm going to find the thermometer."

"I know I'm feverish. You could probably fry an egg on me."

"It's not funny, Sunshine. High fever is dangerous."

The intercom sounded.

"Get in bed." Brian rushed to buzz the grocery delivery man inside. He pulled the door open, accepting the bags, tipped the guy, then shut the door loudly. Next, he fetched a thick blanket from his closet and the thermometer from his bathroom. "Okay, Sunshine! Roll over. Nurse Kinney is on the way."

"You aren't going to stick that in my ass!"

"Lift your shirt." Gently, Brian placed the thermometer under Justin's armpit. "Now stay put." He wrapped the other blanket around Justin's shoulders, stroking his wet locks. "Tell me how high it is when it beeps; I'll be in the kitchen. Oh, and drink your tea."

"Fuck! I might have as well gone home. You're worse than Mom."

"Be a good boy and I might give you a reward." Brian bounded down the stairs, ready to try his hand at chicken soup.

"Sex is the last thing on my mind," Justin called out, before coughing violently.

"Drink your tea!"

"Fuck off," Justin muttered, glaring at Brian's shape through the panels. He sat in bed, following Brian's flitting form with his eyes, curious about what he was doing. He really wanted Brian to sit next to him, not do fuck knows what in the kitchen.

When the thermometer sounded, Justin took it out gingerly and gasped. "Holy shit! Brian!"

"What? You okay?" Brian rushed to his side, raking his eyes over his boyfriend.

Justin thrust the offensive object at Brian. "I'm going to burn alive. It's 103.5! It's never been so high!"

"You know what will help?"

"A cold hole six feet under." Justin shrunk under the blankets, shivering. He couldn't understand how he could shiver when his fever was so high.

"Don't be an over-dramatic twat. You'll be fine in no time. You need a cold shower. As cold as you can bear."

"I can't stand on my own," Justin pointed out, his teeth chattering.

"Come on." Brian pulled him out of the bed, deciding the soup could wait. Reducing Justin's fever was a priority. "I got some Motrin. You're not allergic to that, too, are you?"

"You nailed it," Justin mumbled, pressing into Brian's side.

"Good or bad?"

"G-g-ood-d. F-fuck-ck." A shiver rocked him violently.

"Christ. You're too hot. This is not good." Brian turned the cold water tap on the shower, eyeing Justin with concern.

"The lights in here are pretty." Justin looked around as if seeing the bathroom for the first time. "After the shower I want the extra soft, red towel. It always feels so nice."

Brian was certain the rambling and delirium were due to the high fever. He pushed Justin under the ice cold water, stepping behind him and closing the door.

"We're dressed. We never showered dressed. This is so cool."

"Justin, shut up. You're starting to scare me."

"Did you know your eyes turn _so_ green when your emotions get the best of you?" Justin cupped his face, reaching out for a kiss. "And you're so cold and nice. You feel great." He yawned.

"Don't do this." Brian held Justin under the shower head, surprised he didn't sizzle at the contact with the cold water. "How does this feel?"

"Gooood. Greeaat. I'm sleepy. Can we shower another time?"

"Fuck. No! We can't!"

"I want to sleep." Justin opened the door, determined to get out of the shower, but he slipped. Brian caught him in time, immediately wrapped his terry cloth bathrobe around his blond boy, before draping a towel over his own shoulders.

He steered Justin to the bed, leaving him sitting and swaying on the spot, finding the blue lights above the bed fascinating.

It was time to get real help.

Brian changed out of his wet clothes, then changed Justin, too. He grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys before dragging him to the car.

"Are we going on a trip? I like trips."

"Yes, it's not your usual trip, but we have to go there."

"Where are you taking me?" Justin leaned into Brian's side.

"It's a surprise. Now stay put."

"I like surprises." Justin grinned, vibrating in the passenger seat.

Arriving at the hospital in record time, Brian pulled Justin out of the car and guided him to the emergency entrance with his arms around him. He wasn't ready to wait forever to be checked in, so he dialed Daphne's number.

"Brian, what a surprise!" She answered cheerfully.

"Are you at the hospital?"

"Are you…okay? I'm finishing my shift."

"Meet me in the E.R. and make sure you have a doctor that can take a case right away."

"Jeez, what happened?" She didn't get an answer, because Brian hung up, steering Justin to a plastic chair.

"This is my surprise? The hospital?" Justin pouted.

" _That's_ your surprise." Brian pointed to Daphne running down the hallway. She came to a skidding halt in front of them. "Oh, my God! He looks terrible. Justin." She hugged him tightly, but pulled back quickly. "Hot. Ouch."

"Yeah. 103.5 last time we checked. He's delirious, too. The cold shower didn't do much good."

"Shit. Hold on." She rushed to the nurses' desk, returning with a stack of files. "Fill this in, I'll have him checked. Any idea how he got like this?"

"It's the flu…a bad case of flu," Brian explained, scowling at the papers in his hands.

They went to an empty room, where Daphne hooked Justin to an IV after summoning a nurse to draw blood. Brian sat in the chair by the bed, filling in the forms Daphne had given him.

"I was here before. I didn't like it. Can we go home, Brian?"

"No," he muttered, not looking up.

"Justin, your fever is 104 now. We need to get it down," Daphne said softly. "Where the fuck is he?" She checked her pager again.

The doctor stepped into the room at the same moment. "Hello. My name is Dr. Cooper. What are the symptoms, Miss Chanders?"

Daphne rattled off everything about Justin's condition, and the doctor immediately got to work.

"You should call his mom if you didn't already," Daphne whispered to Brian. "And the gang. They'll be worried."

"Only Deb knows he's back. I thought it was a normal flu, or a bad cold. I even offered to make him chicken soup."

"You did?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Brian mumbled, watching as the doctor gave Justin something to sleep off the fever.

"He's going to be okay, if he gets through today."

"I fucking hate that phrase."

"His body is weakened and this new virus going around is stronger. Miss Chanders, bring some potassium and calcium bags. Your partner should be fine, sir," the doctor told Brian. "You can stay here with him if you want."

"Of course, I'm staying here!"

 **oOo**

Later that night everyone knew Justin was back and in the hospital. To Brian's surprise, they listened and didn't visit when he promised to keep them updated.

Only Jennifer had dropped by in the early evening to see her son before going home to Molly, not wanting her to be alone with Tucker for too long. She joked that the kids got in trouble when they were alone, and she was pleased to pull a small smile from Brian with that comment.

"How is he?" Daphne stepped into the room around eleven at night.

Brian jerked from his spot on the chair, having fallen asleep.

"Shit. Sorry." She went to sit at the foot of the bed. "You know why he got it so badly?"

"I'll have a talk with him about taking better care of himself. And if he doesn't accept my help with money, I'm going to find another way to do it. I won't let this happen again."

"Good luck with that."

"Can you stop talking? I'm trying to sleep," Justin mumbled.

"You're awake!" Brian leaned in closer, taking Justin's hand. It was much cooler, and some of the rosy color had returned to Justin's cheeks. "If you scare me like this again, I'll—"

"Will you spank me?" Justin smiled, squeezing his hand. "Hey, Daph! Why are you here?"

"You're in…Wait. You don't remember what happened?" She frowned.

"He was delirious! Of course he doesn't remember, Ms. Doctor." Brian rolled his eyes. "You came home sick. That much you must remember."

"Yeah…but how did we end up in the hospital?" Justin looked around, confused.

"You had a high fever. Like, seriously high, and nothing I did helped…so I brought you here. You've been out for most of the day."

"Oh. And what's with these?" He shook his hand holding the IVs.

"You are going to eat and take care of yourself, Justin. Your body was too weakened from not eating properly, not sleeping enough, and this flu took a toll on you."

"When can we go home?"

"Not yet." Brian took his hand, squeezing it.

"Your fever is down. As long as Brian can vouch for you to stay hydrated and eat something, they'll let you go in the morning," Daphne explained.

 **oOo**

Just as Daphne predicted, Justin was discharged first thing in the morning. He didn't have much time to be happy about being out of the hospital, however, because Brian took his role as the nurse very seriously.

The second they arrived at the loft, Brian installed Justin in front of the TV with his favorite movie, a blanket over his shoulders, and a fresh cup of mint tea at hand.

"What are you doing there?" Justin demanded, looking at his partner over the back of the sofa.

"Watch your movie and don't mind me." Brian was determined to succeed in preparing Justin the chicken soup, though it was much more complicated than it looked like. All he knew how to make in the kitchen was coffee and boil eggs, and if he put his mind to it, he could make an omelet or fried potatoes.

In the end, he had everything in the pot and left it to boil.

"How are you feeling?" Brian leaned over the back of the couch, stroking Justin's hair, reveling in the fact that his skin was so much cooler than when Justin had come home two days ago.

Justin pointed to his throat, making a slicing gesture.

"Oh. I have something for your sore throat." He went to the medicine bag, and returned with something to alleviate Justin's pain. "Here you go." Brian popped the pill between Justin's lips. "Suck, I trust you know how to do that." He smirked, kissing Justin's brow fondly.

Justin pushed Brian's face away. "Don't. You'll get it, too," he protested weakly.

"I hate to break it to you, Sunshine, but I bet I already got whatever you have."

"Aw, shit. Sorry."

"Stop talking. Focus on getting better."

Justin patted the spot between his legs, smiling in invitation. Brian immediately got comfortable, leaning against Justin's chest.

They watched _The Yellow Submarine_ in silence. It was odd for Brian not to hear Justin humming along with the songs, but the poor lad was feeling so bad, not even his favorite movie could lift his mood.

Justin threaded his fingers through Brian's hair, burrowing his nose in the silky fringes, inhaling deeply. He missed being able to touch Brian, smell Brian, hear Brian breathe; seeing him on their Skype chats or hearing his voice over the phone wasn't enough.

In that moment, when he was feeling so down and needy to be close to the one he loved, Justin entertained the thought of kicking New York aside and returning home, staying and never leaving, but he knew that the second he felt better, Brian would shove him onto the next plane to New York. They'd discuss it. The temporary separation would bring them even closer when they ultimately wound up living in the same place.

After some time, a delicious smell hit Justin's nostrils. He tapped Brian's arm until he looked at him. Justin sniffed, wrinkling his nose.

"Shit!" Brian jumped as if burned, running into the kitchen.

Justin watched him, confused. His eyes widened when he saw Brian checking a pot on the stove.

Satisfied that his soup wasn't shit, Brian turned off the stove, placing the pot on a different burner. He glanced up to see Justin gawking at him.

"Hungry?" Brian smirked.

Justin was sure his fever was back with a vengeance and he was delusional all over again. He couldn't be seeing right. Brian wasn't cooking.

He could only nod, extending his hands for the upcoming bowl.

Brian poured a few ladles into a bowl before handing it to Justin, along with a tablespoon. "It's hot, so be careful."

Justin lifted a spoon to his mouth, but stopped short, eyeing Brian suspiciously. "Why aren't you eating, too?"

"It's not poisoned, Sunshine. It's chicken soup."

"You cooked it. That itself is suspicious," Justin choked out, coughing a little.

"Relax. I hope it's edible, though." Brian petted Justin's head. "Why don't you try it, then it's off to bed for you."

Tentatively, Justin took a sip of his soup. It tasted better than anything he'd eaten in days. He grinned, showing Brian a thumbs up, before diving into his bowl.

Justin loved Brian a little more for his gesture, and the lengths he'd gone to in order to ensure he was going to be okay. It also proved how much Brian loved him, even though he didn't say the words as often as Justin wanted.

Besides, all Justin needed was Brian by his side, and he knew that would never be a problem. Brian was always there for him.


End file.
